


love at first sight

by Salty_Cro



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Song: Love At First Sight (The Brobecks), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 08:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Cro/pseuds/Salty_Cro
Summary: Ned and Barclay meet twice and then fall in love.





	love at first sight

**Author's Note:**

> listen its the brobecks and barclane what more do ya want from me. warning for blood and injury but not actual violence.

Ned saw the man for the first time by accident.

It was late, really late, and Ned had only been in town for a few weeks. He still got lost on the backroads that connected the highway to topside. He was lost right now, actually, and he was just trying to get to the first place with lights on before he ran out of gas. That place happened to be an inn called Amnesty Lodge. The name sounded familiar in Ned’s mind, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe Victoria had brought it up.

Ned pulled into the packed dirt parking lot and turned off his car. He sat for a moment in the dark, wondering if he should go inside. Should he knock? It’s an inn, they were probably used to people coming in late. The energy was off, though. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot. Ned figured it might just be off season.

The building was nice. It had a log cabin aesthetic, modernized with what looked to be a dome of glass over the front half of the building. What was the worst that could happen? That wasn’t a great question to ask, Ned thought, but he had to give it a shot.

With a sigh, he got out of the car. He tried to make himself look as unthreatening as possible: shoulders slouched back, half-moon costume glasses he found last week perched on his nose, hair pulled back in a neat low ponytail. He was wearing mostly Cryptonomica merch, so he wasn’t exactly mysterious.

Ned put his hand on the handle. His thief’s senses told him the lock was old, but it seemed pretty strong. He remembered that this wasn’t a heist, it was a place of business, and his last resort at that.

But as he went to turn the handle the door swung open. Ned was now face to face with possibly the most handsome man he’d ever seen. He was tall, taller than Ned by far, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest cloaked in red flannel. His hair was dark, the warm gold of the porch light reflecting off his messy bun and well-kept beard. His eyes were a deep brown—

“Sir, do you need something?” the man asked in a strained customer service voice.

Ned realized he was just staring. He cleared his throat and said, “Yes, I’m so sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but, well, I’m a little lost, and my car is not a fan of this terrain or its lack of fuel. Would you be so kind as to give me directions back to town?”

The man looked somewhere behind Ned, probably at his car, then looked back to Ned. Ned was stunned by those dark eyes, with the beginnings of crow’s feet in the corner and—

“Come inside, it’s not safe to be out this far at night.” The man opened the door and let Ned in. “I’m Barclay, by the way.”

“N— Edm— the name’s— here, can you try opening the door again and this time I’ll be more smooth?” Ned stumbled.

The man, Barclay, smiled confusedly and shut the door again, only to reopen it with a neutral face. “Hi, I’m Barclay, welcome to Amnesty Lodge. What’s your name?”

“The name’s Ned Chicane, pleased to meet you,” Ned said, this time with practiced ease. Inside though, he was surprised Barclay had gone along with it.

“Well come on in, Ned. Where you from?” Barclay asked, holding the door open for him.

“I… I just moved to town.” Damn, this man was really ruining Ned.

“Oh yeah? How’re you liking it so far?” Barclay walked further into the low-lit building. The atmosphere was very homey. It suited Barclay, Ned thought.

“It’s nice! I’m not— not so used to small towns, but it is lovely,” Ned said. He neglected to mention that he was essentially living with the town witch after breaking into her house.

Barclay walked into the dining room. “Yeah, Kepler takes some getting used to, for sure. But it’s definitely worth it. Tea?”

“Hm?” Ned said, realizing he had stopped paying attention due to the streaks of moonlight sliding down Barclay’s chest.

“Do you want some tea? Or coffee, or— whatever you’d like, on the house,” Barclay offered.

“Oh! Uh, well, that’s very kind of you— I don’t suppose you’d have sandwiches on hand?” Ned replied. He didn’t want to bother this very kind and handsome man, but he hadn’t eaten properly in way too long.

“Any preferences?” Barclay asked, moving back towards the kitchen.

“You got a Monte Cristo by any chance?”

“Yeah, I can get you one of those.”

Ned watched Barclay’s back through the counter window and wondered if this was what love at first sight was all about.   
  


~☀~

Barclay saw Ned again two years later.

He hadn’t thought about the man much, once Barclay sent him on his way with directions back to town. Hadn’t thought about his bright hazel eyes that darted around anxiously, or the exaggerated baritone that avoided questions in much the same way, or the greying hair that had glittered in the moonlight. Well, Barclay might have though about him a little bit. But only on the quiet nights in the kitchen when it was just him and the radio, or grocery trips into town when he passed the turnoff for the Cryptonomica, or whenever he had trouble getting the door of the lodge to unstick. Really, Barclay barely thought about Ned.

Now though, Barclay had no choice. He had come pounding on the door of the Cryptonomica, the closest building he knew would be open. He had stumbled in as Ned opened the door, saying “Sorry to bother you, I know we’ve only met once— lock the door.”

“You’re bleeding,” Ned noticed, pulling the grate down in front of the door.

“That happens sometimes,” Barclay grimaced. He could feel the whole right side of his shredded flannel shirt sticking to his bloody chest.

“Here—” Ned pulled over the desk chair from behind the counter.

Barclay collapsed into it, feeling some of the pain ease. “You’re taking this pretty well, considering I just busted into your place in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the best way to enter,” Ned said, digging under the counter. “Adds to the ambiance.”

“Place looks nice,” Barclay said, breathing heavily. There were a lot more displays than Barclay remembered the last time he was in here, years ago. Better paint and curtain choices too.

“Thanks, I’ve been working real hard getting it back on the map,” Ned said. “Especially the Bigfoot section, god knows that kinda stuff sells.”

“Yeah,” Barclay sighed, a little quieter. Ned didn’t know the half of it.

“Hey, hey, stay with me here. As much as I’d love for this place to be haunted, I can’t have you dying on me,” Ned said. Barclay laughed a little.

“No, I’m— I’m good, really,” Barclay said. He straightened up and started unbuttoning his shirt. 

“What got you?” Ned asked, peeling the sticky fabric from Barclay’s skin. Barclay shivered at the touch, but Ned didn’t seem to notice.

“I… I can’t tell you,” Barclay tried.

“Alright,” Ned said, finally examining the wound. Barclay was surprised that worked. Ned frowned. “Oh, that’s nasty.”

Barclay started to get up. “Sorry, I’m getting blood everywhere, aren’t I—”

Ned pushed Barclay back by his good shoulder. “It’s fine, I have to replace the carpet anyway. This is gonna sting like hell, but I need you to hold still, alright?”

“I can do that,” Barclay breathed. Ned had gotten close enough that Barclay could see the flecks of brown and green in his hazel eyes.

“Okay.” Ned started cleaning the blood away from the gash. 

Barclay could feel the wound slowly pulling itself back together. Granted, it was a lot slower than it would be if he were taking a dip in the hot springs, but he was sure Ned would notice. Barclay was already risking it by coming to the Cryptonomica, a known cryptid-reporting location. Ned wasn’t saying anything, though, so Barclay hoped he was in the clear.

Ned taped down the last of the bandaging, smoothed it down, and then stopped. That’s when Barclay realized just how compromising this positioning was. Ned was basically straddling his leg, leaning very close to Barclay’s face. Barclay looked up at Ned. Ned met his gaze for just a moment, and then turned sharply away. He shuffled backwards quickly, wiping his hands on an antiseptic towelette. Barclay wished his shirt wasn’t torn to pieces so he could put it back on.

Ned cleared his throat. “That should hold for the night.”

“Thank you,” Barclay said, also clearing his throat. He stood up from the chair. “I’ll, uh… I’m gonna— well—” 

“You can stay here for the night,” Ned offered.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to go out of your way to, uh—”

“Nonsense, you were kind enough to help me in my hour of need, I can give you a place to sleep for the night.”

Ned looked Barclay in the eye. Barclay saw the same strange understanding he saw a minute ago, but this time it felt more guarded.

“I— alright, thank you.”

Ned smiled a little bit and gestured for Barclay to follow him. “Come on, I won’t make you sleep on the floor.”

~☀~

Now it’s been almost five years since Ned met Barclay.

Sure, up until a few months ago Ned had only spoken to him twice. But those two times were pretty notable, and the past three months have been more than that. Ned had often found himself alone with Barclay; mostly during the times he would go up to Amnesty Lodge just to be around people. Barclay never seemed to mind Ned’s presence, luckily. He hid in the kitchen a lot, and Ned was more than happy to join him.

They ended up talking a lot, about their pasts and their histories and the difference therein. They had talked about fake identities and escapes gone wrong and fire alarms going off too late. About the best way to patch up a gunshot wound and the difference between human and Bigfoot anatomy. About how it was apparently nice of Ned to help Barclay that one night a couple years ago, and how Ned had thought Barclay was a werewolf for the longest time. About how scary it was to have people who care about you.

And if those talks and cohabitant hiding led to nights alone in the dining room, listening to the old radio by the window, well then that’s where it led. Who was Ned to defy the winds of fate, especially when they pushed him towards someone like Barclay? 

It’s one of those moonlit nights when Ned comes to a realization.

He was watching Barclay shut down the kitchen for the night. Barclay turned the main dining room light off, leaving just the glow of a lamp in the corner and the thin moonlight pouring through the window. The radio is still playing, some contemporary orchestral tune. It changes to a crackly violin-led number that, were Ned poetically inclined, he might say fit the night perfectly.

“I like this one,” Barclay said. He was a lot closer than Ned remembered.

“We don’t have to go yet,” Ned pointed out softly.

“We don’t.” Barclay stood at the window, silhouetted by silver light. Ned knew he was scrutinizing the trees for any sign of monsters, even though it wasn’t quite the full moon, or even a monster month.

It’s quiet, save for the violin over the radio. As they stood, frozen by the night, Ned wondered what it would be like to dance with Barclay. Probably pretty nice, right? Maybe he could hold one of Barclay’s hands and put the other on his shoulder. Or maybe he could loop his arms around Barclay’s neck, and Barclay would rest his hands at the small of Ned’s back.

It wasn’t the first time Ned had thought about this. But tonight… he knew there was more to it. He knew that dancing wasn’t the only thing he wanted. This was more than the cravings of a man starved of intimacy. This was personal. Ned knew that he didn’t want to make the long and lonely drive back to the Cryptonomica. He wanted to stay here, and dance with Barclay, and kiss him, and maybe go with him to bed where they would joke about sleeping together but really Barclay would hold Ned tight and mean it.

“Ned?”

“Huh?” Ned snapped out of his fantasy.

“I was just gonna say, I can make up a room for you if you wanna stay for the night,” Barclay said.

“I…” Ned thought about the possibility of staying. As much as he wanted to, he knew he shouldn’t. Not with the kinds of thoughts he was having. “That’s alright, I think I’m going to head out, y’know, gotta make sure Kirby doesn’t destroy the place, but thank you.”

“Then I guess this is goodnight,” Barclay said.

“Goodnight Barclay, I’m sure I’ll be back to bother you soon,” Ned smiled.

“Goodnight Ned,” Barclay smiled back.

~☀~

Barclay was definitely in love in Ned.

There was something incredibly vulnerable about being alone with someone who had the power to ruin your life. Well, technically, anyone had that power, but still. Barclay and Ned were uniquely balanced in the power they could hold over each other. Ned could expose Barclay, and Barclay could expose him right back. But that was the thing: Barclay got the feeling neither of them wanted to do that.

Being around Ned was so easy. Ned seemed content just to be near him, and never pushed conversations. When they did get into a conversation though, it was impossible to stop. They bounced back and forth effortlessly. Unless someone interrupted them, those talks would take them late into the night, when both of them were falling asleep on the couch in the lobby. Barclay had awoken more than once to Aubrey shouting “wake up sleepyhead” at them.

It was one of those nights when Barclay decided he had nothing to lose. 

He was getting more obvious by the minute, and Ned hadn’t exactly been subtle either. They had made it out of the dining room after closing it up for the night. Now they were just hovering by the fireplace. Barclay got the feeling Ned was waiting for him to decide. The radio weighed heavy in Barclay’s hand, like it was pulling him to the right answer. Barclay flipped it on.

A slow violin pulled through the room. Barclay had heard it a few times before, including on one of the nights Ned had stayed late. That night… Barclay almost said something. Almost asked Ned to stay, maybe even almost asked him to dance. Now it was as if the radio was giving him a second chance.

“Ned… would you like to dance?” Barclay asked softly.

Ned looked up. “Oh, yes, actually.”

Barclay held out a hand. Ned took it— his hands were cold, Barclay noticed. Ned’s other hand found Barclay’s shoulder, and Barclay held onto Ned’s waist. Neither of them tried anything fancy; it was late, and both of them were tired. They swayed gently to the rhythm until the last notes drew themselves from the air.

Neither of them let go. A new song came on, this one more jazzy and upbeat. Barclay didn’t want to meet Ned’s eyes in case it would ruin the moment. Ned seemed to have a different idea.

“Are you any good at swing dancing?” Ned asked.

“No,” Barclay laughed.

“It’s impossible to be bad at swing dancing, dear,” Ned said. And though they had used pet names like that before, it never felt so genuine.

“Why don’t you show me then?” Barclay raised an eyebrow.

“Gladly.”

Ned stepped back and moved his hand from Barclay’s shoulder to his back. “Just try and mirror me.”

Barclay spent the rest of the song trying desperately not to step on Ned’s toes. Ned led Barclay in a loose square, gently pushing him out and reeling him back in. It wasn’t that bad, if Barclay was being honest.

Then the song ended, and Barclay was pretty sure he was getting sweaty, but Ned pulled him back to their original position. Barclay rested his hand just under Ned’s shoulderblades. He was still avoiding Ned’s eyes. They moved slowly to the classical guitar song.

As the song went on, Barclay moved closer to Ned. Ned didn’t back away. Barclay made a resolution: if they made it through this song, he would kiss Ned. He didn’t know exactly what “make it through” meant, but he was determined to do it.

Then the last notes of the song faded out, and Barclay’s resolve was dissipating. Ned wasn’t moving, though. If anything, he seemed like he wouldn’t let go. Barclay let his hand slide down to Ned’s waist again.

“Ned… there’s something I should tell you,” Barclay said.

“Alright,” comes Ned’s reply, quiet and buried somewhere in Barclay’s chest pocket.

“I… I’m in love with you,” Barclay admitted. He waited worriedly for the response, any response, good or bad. When none came, he worried even more. “Ned?”

“Are you sure?” Ned said finally.

“Pretty damn sure,” Barclay said.

Ned breathed a shaky sigh. “I don’t— I don’t wanna say you aren’t but I just— you’re sure you’re not lying?”

“I have literally no reason to lie about this, Ned,” Barclay assured him. He didn’t blame Ned for being skeptical, but he needed him to know.

“I’m in love with you too,” Ned laughed humorlessly, “I should’ve said that sooner but it’s… it’s out there now. That might be why I don’t believe you.”

Barclay pulled Ned closer almost absentmindedly. “Yeah, I mean… things rarely work out like that, but… I think they are. Or they did. I don’t know. Where do you wanna go from here?” 

“Your room,” Ned said, his voice muffled in Barclay’s shoulder.

“Already?” Barclay teased.

“Yes dear, we’re going to fuck right now, at ass o’clock at night, in your room, five minutes after we started dating, before we’ve even kissed,” Ned cut back.

“Well, we can fix that last part.”

Barclay pushed Ned’s shoulders back just enough to see his face. He finally looked Ned in the eyes. Ned’s hazel eyes reflected gold in the moonlight, like miniature suns glowing over the rims of his (costume) half-lens glasses.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what?” Ned moved first and pressed his lips to Barclay’s.

Barclay kissed back maybe a little harder than he meant to, knocking Ned’s glasses askew. Ned laughed a little bit and Barclay swallowed the sound. He brought a hand up to the back of Ned’s neck, and Ned put his hand on Barclay’s bicep.

When they finally broke apart for air, Barclay felt like he was floating. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ned smiled.

“Now we can go to my room,” Barclay conceded.

“Already?” Ned parroted, taking Barclay’s hand. They started towards the staircase.

“You’re a nightmare,” Barclay snickered.

“Of course I am, dear, how else would I run a monster museum?” Ned retorted.

Barclay thought of a response, but instead of saying it, he remembered he could just kiss Ned to shut him up. Ned responded eagerly, leaving them kissing at the foot of the stairs. This one was shorter though, and Ned spoke first.

“I never would’ve imagined, however long ago, when we first met that— that fateful night, that we’d be making out in the middle of the night, in the middle of the foyer,” Ned said.

“Are you sure about that? I’m pretty sure I saw you checking me out, you weren’t subtle,” Barclay replied.

“Yeah but it wasn’t like I would  _ act _ on that. Love at first sight never goes  _ well _ ,” Ned waved a hand.

“I think if not first sight, it was second for me. I showed up to your place in the middle of the night and you immediately start doing first aid in the most erotic way possible,” Barclay said.

“It was not the most erotic way possible! I— Barclay, honey, if you wanted sexy first aid I could do sexy first aid but that was not it,” Ned said.

“Sexy and erotic are two different things,” Barclay argued.

“I don’t think so.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“More like agree to kiss-agree.” Ned kissed Barclay again.


End file.
